Home
by ela2002
Summary: WIP- A little back story to season nine finale, which will extend beyond it in the next chapter
1. Chapter 1

Title: Home.(part 1)  
  
Author:Ela2002  
  
Catagory:angst  
  
E-mail: george@mail2honey.com  
  
Archive: if you like  
  
Summary: A little before and a little after season nine finale  
  
A back story if you like.  
  
Feedback much appreciated, haven't seen much recent ER fanfic,   
  
hoping to start a revival!  
  
Spoilers: Some for season nine, anyone in the UK who doesn't   
  
have cable and managed to avoid hearing ahead from friends!  
  
Disclaimers: The characters aren't mine, I'm just playing with them.  
  
Abby stood by the ambulance entrance breathing deeply. She   
  
checked her watch, she had twenty minutes, enough time, she'd  
  
feel better before she went inside. Through half closed eyes   
  
she saw Susan Lewis striding toward her. Feeling weak she   
  
leaned back against the wall.  
  
"Hey Abby." Susan was about to walk passed her when she   
  
stopped and regarded her more closely, "You OK? You don't look so good?"  
  
She tried to smile back but couldn't quite muster the   
  
gesture before she was forced to swing away retching,   
  
facing the floor she managed to gasp out, "yeah, I'm fine."  
  
Susan had grabbed her hair off her face and was rubbing her  
  
back, "Looks like." She muttered, feeling Abby start to   
  
straighten up she applied gentle pressure to her, "Stay there,   
  
take some deep breaths" Beneath her Abby nodded and leaned into  
  
the wall. After a couple of seconds she wretched again, this  
  
time vomiting back the glass of water she'd had for breakfast.  
  
"Morning Carter." She heard Susan say above her head, cringing she   
  
lent back into the wall trying to hide herself. The guy had timing   
  
she had to admit that. She saw his legs break their stride for   
  
a moment as he took in the scene before him.  
  
"Out partying last night Abby? Hope you two had fun." She watched  
  
his feet stride away. She could tell from his foot fall that he   
  
was angry, but trying to show nonchalance. Perhaps this view point   
  
was one she should adopt more often. She was certainly better at  
  
judging his mood while staring at his feet than face to face.  
  
"That was cool. Something going on with you two?"  
  
Confident she had expelled her entire stomach contents Abby stood  
  
up to face Susan. She closed her eyes for a second to allow the  
  
world to compensate for her sudden change in altitude and attitude.   
  
"No, nothing at all is happening. He wants me to leave him alone."  
  
She felt rather than heard Susan take a breath before she asked her   
  
next question, "Were you drinking last night? I know he found it   
  
hard to deal with when we went out drinking, even though it wasn't   
  
a problem for you of course." She added quickly.  
  
Abby sighed, "No, I'm not drinking and I'm not smoking, but   
  
I am going into work, are you coming?" She strode away from   
  
Susan through the doors, with more confidence than she felt.   
  
She sensed Susan taking up the stride next to her.  
  
"If you're sick, you should go home."  
  
"I know but I'm fine" she back at her. Silently thinking, I   
  
should have those words tattooed onto my forehead, it would   
  
save me some time. Or perhaps the words, 'I'm sober, I   
  
promise' would be more appropriate.  
  
Finishing her uniform by attaching her ID she caught sight of   
  
herself in the mirror. She looked pale and tired, no wonder   
  
John had though she'd been out drinking she would have thought   
  
the same in his position. She had proven herself to a drunk   
  
several times, particularly to him. By sponsoring him, then   
  
ungracefully falling off the wagon before his eyes. Not once,   
  
but twice, she didn't like to do things by halves. Of course   
  
she insisted she just wanted a drink, not five, or fifty that   
  
it was no big deal. She knew that it was, because she had   
  
been sober for a long time, a divorce had not shaken her, her   
  
family was the only thing that could do that. Her family and   
  
John Carter. She had stopped having the odd drink though, straight   
  
away, and stopped smoking, she considered it an odd action   
  
to herself because she knew what she was going to do, she certainly wasn't-  
  
The door slamming interrupted her train of thought. Weaver   
  
was standing in front of her, having just finished her   
  
shift. "Abby, it's chaos out there, I think they'd appreciate your   
  
help, we've got an RTA rolling in right now with no nurse in   
  
the trauma room."  
  
She didn't need telling twice, leaving her locker wide   
  
open she walked out of the lounge and into the chaos that   
  
always greeted her. She could barely remember the time when   
  
she had worked as an OB nurse. At the time she had thought it   
  
chaotic, until she had stepped into the ER, it amazed her that   
  
anyone survived some days. And that was just the staff.  
  
She fell into step next to the gurney and hooked into the EMT's handover.  
  
"...restrained front seat passenger, facial lacerations, complains   
  
of abdominal pain and nausea. Tachy at 130, BP 100 over 60,   
  
sats 98% on ten litres."  
  
They swung the gurney into position in the trauma room and she   
  
began affixing a variety of monitors. The paramedic continued   
  
his briefing, but it faded out as she fell into the familiar   
  
routine she knew well.  
  
She handed the patient a bowl and helped roll her as she vomited,   
  
she felt a familiarly warm and wet sensation and knew she   
  
had been entirely successful in containing the deluge. She was   
  
not perturbed, patients who had suffered trauma often vomited.   
  
She looked up as the EMT concluded his round up of the   
  
patient's medical history.  
  
".....not known to be HIV, but she is CMV positive."  
  
She felt chilled, "Excuse me?"  
  
"She's CMV positive, didn't ask how she got infected, I   
  
assumed it was from untreated blood products with her   
  
clotting problem."  
  
The patient nodded. Abby looked down at herself, she was   
  
covered in vomit. She stepped away from the gurney, "Can   
  
you get yosh? I can't stay in here."  
  
She was already removing her gloves and apron, for   
  
all the use they'd done, it had soaked through to her clothes.  
  
Susan locked gazes with her, "What? Why? Are you sick?"  
  
But she had already retreated out of the room, "What? No,   
  
I just.. Have to get changed, I'm sorry."  
  
Abby grabbed a pair of scrubs and went to the toilets, not   
  
pausing to check if anyone else was inside she stripped her   
  
soaked clothes off and began to wash herself down with paper   
  
towels. Having done the best she could she faced herself   
  
in the mirror. She was shaking and pale. She felt like   
  
she might vomit again. She jumped as the door opened,   
  
Susan Lewis strode in.  
  
"We must stop meeting like this, people will talk." She said weakly.  
  
"What's going on Abby?"   
  
She knew from her tone she meant business, though Susan was   
  
kind and understanding she knew she could be harsh   
  
when she needed to be.  
  
"I'm sorry, I guess I still don't feel too good, when she vomited-"  
  
Susan cut her off, "I was there," she said sharply, then took   
  
a breath and softened her tone, "I've seen you deal with   
  
much worse, with a hangover. What's going on here Abby?"  
  
She sighed and knew she would have to tell her,   
  
"It was the CMV, stupid really-"  
  
"You're pregnant?" She waited for a nodded reply, "That's  
  
not stupid, you should be taking precautions,   
  
though its perhaps a little too late for that speech!"  
  
Abby kept her silence.  
  
"I take it Carter wasn't all that pleased?"  
  
"He doesn't know, he's not going to. I'm booked in   
  
for a termination, I can't keep it, it would only   
  
upset him. He just lost his grandmother, he doesn't   
  
need to know about this." She felt guilty saying the   
  
words out loud, a termination, without the father's   
  
knowledge, without John even knowing. But what did   
  
he care? Perhaps he should have had a little more   
  
faith in her, maybe things could have been different. She   
  
knew they couldn't, how could she give birth to a child   
  
knowing what she could pass onto it?  
  
"Abby, you can't go through this on your own. You need each other."  
  
"I've done it before. I had a termination behind   
  
my husband's back when we were married, he still   
  
doesn't know, why should this be any different?" She said   
  
angrily, she wanted to anger her into leaving her alone,   
  
she knew John confided in her and didn't want to   
  
involve her in the situation they had created.  
  
Susan regarded her coolly, but did not make an angered   
  
response, "But it is different, isn't it? Otherwise   
  
why were you worried about the CMV? Why did you   
  
stop drinking and smoking if you don't want this baby?"   
  
Despite herself Abby felt tears prick in her eyes,   
  
"I never said I didn't want it, I just can't   
  
keep it, that's all."  
  
Susan placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sending you home   
  
sick, please use the time to go talk to John?   
  
Before you decide on something you both regret?"  
  
Regretting listening to Susan in the first place, she   
  
faced Carter's apartment building. He would be sleeping,   
  
but at least she knew where to find him. Thinking of a   
  
less direct way of starting the conversation she reached   
  
for her cell phone. Surely calling him first would be less   
  
combative than appearing at his door when she   
  
was meant to be at work.  
  
She listening to the ringing, finally after what   
  
seemed like an eternity a blurry voice answered,   
  
"Yeah? Carter here."  
  
She hesitated, Susan was wrong he didn't   
  
need to know, did he? Words froze in her throat.  
  
"Hello?" Came an impatient voice from the phone she held.  
  
She cleared her throat, "Um, Carter? It's me.   
  
I need to talk to you." Her voice died away as   
  
she waited for a response, silence greeted her for a second then.  
  
"I'm sleeping Abby. Aren't you meant to be at work?"  
  
"Yeah, look I'm outside. Can I come up?"  
  
His reply came quickly this time, "I told   
  
you I need some time. I'll call you."  
  
Before she could form a response, she heard the dial   
  
tone. He'd hung up on her, on them. She slumped onto   
  
a wall beside her feeling defeated. See, she told   
  
herself, you let all these thoughts into your head and he   
  
won't even listen to you long enough to tell him he's going   
  
to be a father.  
  
She stopped herself, where had that come from? He was not   
  
going to be a father, she just felt Susan had a point,   
  
that he should know what had happened, that for one thing   
  
they needed to practice more effective birth control in   
  
the future. If they had one. She knew they had problems,   
  
but felt he was letting his grief over his grandmother seep   
  
into their relationship. Who was she kidding? They didn't   
  
have one, and that was exactly why she didn't owe him an   
  
explanation over this termination. And why she didn't   
  
have to explain it to herself, or anyone. What sort of   
  
relationship did they have if they couldn't talk on   
  
the phone for five minutes without hurting each other?  
  
She had thought they could harm each other over the phone,   
  
she knew they could score better face to face. By   
  
the time she arrived at the ER she already raw emotionally.   
  
Luca had called looking for Carter, assuming she knew he   
  
was flying away to Africa the next morning. Of course she   
  
didn't. Why would she? It wasn't like he owed her   
  
anything, not like he had left her here, pregnant- she stopped   
  
herself. She knew she was dramatising, he didn't even know   
  
and he was hurting too, she shouldn't blame him for his   
  
actions, they had both shown precious little regard for   
  
each other's feelings over the passed few weeks. As she   
  
rounded the corner she could hear foot fall and knew it   
  
was his immediately.   
  
He made to walk passed her, she stopped him, "Carter?   
  
Luca was looking for you, he called thinking I might know   
  
where you are. You're going then, to Africa." It took all   
  
the self control she had stocked up during the day not to   
  
break down into tears.   
  
He nodded, "It's not Rio,... But its not here."  
  
She fully understood the implications of this non-comment,   
  
and it's not near you. She mentally added to his statement.  
  
He made to walk away once more, again she pulled him   
  
back with words, a little more time, she just   
  
needed a little more time, "That's it?"  
  
He looked a question at her, but did not respond.  
  
She wanted to ask, that's it for us, isn't it, but   
  
couldn't muster the courage or strength, "I haven't seen   
  
you in like a week and that's it?"  
  
He began to walk away, she did not stop him, "I saw you,   
  
I saw you drunk tossing up on the side walk on your way   
  
to work. Do I need to see anymore?" His back was to her,   
  
she didn't bother to respond. He'd made his position and   
  
his feelings quite clear.  
  
The days passed slowly, not knowing when he was set to   
  
return, she had no idea when to worry either about their   
  
relationship on his return, or whether he was all right.   
  
Getting home late and going to work early had become her   
  
routine, she didn't think she'd had a day off since he   
  
left, and she was exhausted.   
  
She lay on the couch looking at, rather than watching,   
  
a crappy show she was not following. She had eaten   
  
simple pasta with tomato sauce for dinner, but   
  
knew she was not going to keep it down. She had   
  
started to feel nauseated before she'd finished it,   
  
and half sat cold on the kitchen bench. She had   
  
not kept anything down all day, but then again hadn't   
  
eaten anything all day, so the balance was good she felt.   
  
Feeling her nausea mount she ran to the bathroom where   
  
she sank to the floor retching, her daily routine.   
  
At least she had one constant in her life.   
  
She flushed the toilet and lay back against the bath tub.   
  
It's coolness through her T-shirt felt good. Shaking she   
  
closed her eyes and breathed through another wave of nausea   
  
knowing there was little or nothing left to throw up   
  
and not wanting to expend the energy trying. She   
  
felt her T-shirt was damp and realised she was sweating.   
  
She turned on the shower and stepped in. The water   
  
felt good, cleansing. She closed her eyes. She was   
  
tired, very tired, perhaps tonight she would sleep.  
  
She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around   
  
her. Padding into the living room she flicked off the   
  
TV and lay in bed, not bothering to remove the damp towel.  
  
When she woke it took her moment to get her senses ordered.   
  
It was dark, but her bedside light was turned on, the   
  
towel was still around her. As more senses came to her   
  
she jerked fully awake, someone was sitting next to her.  
  
"Hey, hey, sorry I didn't mean to frighten you."   
  
Carter placed his hand on her arm as she half leapt out of the bed.  
  
She fought back a wave of nausea caused by her rude awakening,   
  
"god....carter... What are you doing here?" Carter, even   
  
here, naked in her own bed still there seemed to be the   
  
doctor-nurse divide. Or was she just more comfortable   
  
keeping at a distance from him?  
  
"I wanted to see you."  
  
Well, obviously, she thought, you used your key to   
  
my apartment in the middle of the night.  
  
He turned his gaze down, "I'm sorry about what happened   
  
before I left. I shouldn't have acted like that.   
  
I didn't want to think I had made you drink-"  
  
She snapped away from him, tears of frustration sprang   
  
from her eyes and turned away so she couldn't see them,   
  
"I wasn't drinking, I was sick!" She shouted at him,   
  
ignoring the fact she was totally naked she stormed   
  
out of the bedroom leaving him behind her.  
  
Realising she was naked, and that it was not good arguing   
  
tactics, she pulled her robe around herself. Hearing him   
  
shuffle into the room behind her she leaned on   
  
the work top of her kitchen, trying to compose herself.  
  
"Sorry, just, you sounded OK, when you came to my   
  
apartment. You said you needed to talk to me-"  
  
"You made it clear you weren't interested in anything I   
  
had to say, what's changed?"  
  
"I have," he replied quickly, " or at least my perspective   
  
has. I love you Abby. I want to be with you,   
  
whatever that means. But you have to want to be with me."  
  
She faced him once more, "I do, but, you should know   
  
something before you make any big sweeping promises."   
  
She slowed, her momentum had suddenly deserted her now   
  
she had the moment she had wanted, "I wanted to talk   
  
to you, I needed to tell you .... I'm pregnant."  
  
She could see her words fade through the tired layers   
  
of his brain, had he got straight off a plane and come here?  
  
"OK, lets talk about what-"  
  
She interrupted him, "I wanted to tell you before you   
  
went away, I arranged a termination, without telling you,   
  
I just wanted it over with."  
  
He sat on the sofa, she tentatively slid down   
  
near, but not next to him, "when is it?" He said finally.  
  
"A few days ago."  
  
He looked down, "So it's over? You had to do it on your own?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did your mom go with you? Or someone?"  
  
She looked away from his pained gaze, and stared at the   
  
smooth finish on the table, "No, I said I'm pregnant, I didn't   
  
go through with it." She felt tears welling up in her   
  
eyes again and let them fall. At this point she felt   
  
totally hopeless, she couldn't explain her actions. After   
  
telling him, with certainly, that she wouldn't have   
  
children because she couldn't cope with the possibility   
  
of passing bipolar onto them she knew she couldn't   
  
terminate this pregnancy.  
  
He reached out and touched her hand softly, encouraged when   
  
she did not pull away he lent in closer and pulled her   
  
into his chest. His heart pounding with excitement and   
  
fright, "Why?" He whispered, "you did before."  
  
She sniffled loudly and buried her face in him,   
  
breathing deeply she felt his sent fill her sense   
  
and she relaxed against him, "I... Couldn't do that   
  
to you, to us. I want this baby, and you, but you don't have to stay-"  
  
"I'm not going anywhere. We're all at home" 


	2. Chapter 2

Author: Ela2002  
  
Title: Home (ch2)  
  
Summary: Carter and Abby's relationship is tested.  
  
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, I'm poor don't sue me please.  
  
Abby lay on the sofa watching the sun rise through her window, it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day, and for once she had a rare day off. Not that she felt much like doing anything with it. She had crept out of her bedroom to get sick, quietly. She knew it was absurd but she wanted Carter to get as much sleep as possible, he looked exhausted. Having spent best part of half an hour throwing up she decided to lie on the sofa rather than risk disturbing him again. She resisted the urge to be irritated that she been in the bathroom for that amount of time without him noticing, it was only to be expected, he had flown half way around the world yesterday to be greeted by the news he was going to be a father. She was sure that was enough to justify heavy sleeping for one night. Soft foot fall alerted her that he had indeed a awoken, he sounded confused, softly padded one direction, pausing then rerouting himself. Either he had forgotten he was not in his apartment or he was looking for her.  
  
He popped his head around the door frame. Early morning sunlight shone from behind him, giving him an odd halo effect from his wildly sticking up hair. "Morning." She said in greeting.  
  
He flopped onto the sofa next to her and nuzzled into her, "Hey. You OK? I missed you. When did you get up?"  
  
She shrugged "About an hour ago. I was feeling nauseous and didn't want to disturb you."  
  
He sighed a worried sigh that she recognised, he was resisting the urge to fuss over her, "You've lost weight you know. Are you keeping fluids down?"  
  
"Yes, I am an OB nurse you know. I'm fine, I just still get a little sick some times."  
  
"Isn't it supposed to start getting better at nine weeks? That's something to look forward to."  
  
"It is supposed to. But, Carter, I'm fourteen weeks, you've been away a while you know."  
  
He nodded "I guess, mind if I use your shower?"  
  
But he was already up and half way out of the room, leaving her alone with the sunrise.  
  
After a quiet breakfast and a frankly frosty morning Abby made him sit down opposite her at the table, "Carter," She said quietly, "is there something wrong? I get the impression I've done something to upset you?"  
  
He looked at the table and considered for a moment, then looked back at her, she was startled to see how angry he looked, where had this come from?  
  
"Fourteen weeks Abby? When did you find out?"  
  
She was taken aback. She had thought he'd understood, their relationship had bee virtually non existent, his grandmother had died, Eric, her mother, everything had gotten in the way of her either considering what she wanted or talking to him "I don't know John, a while ago I guess, it was after Eric was diagnosed, just before he took me to see his plane, I think."  
  
"Abby!" He shouted, she started back slightly, "That was months ago, I can't believe you didn't tell me. Why bother now?"  
  
She was suddenly searching for words, unsure of how to justify herself in front of this sudden storm, "I,...., I just didn't know what........., if I,......., well, what I wanted."  
  
He stared at her stonily, keeping his silence once more, "I wasn't sure because of, well, you know my mother's illness and Eric and that I could pass it on to the baby."  
  
He stood silent still, regarding her as she floundered for words, "I wasn't sure if it was fair, on the baby, on you-"  
  
He cut her off suddenly, "You mean, you weren't sure you wanted a baby who might have bipolar?"  
  
"No, that isn't it, I just-"  
  
"You just what? Didn't wan to put yourself through that, so you'd rather arrange a termination behind my back? Like you did to Richard? What makes this different Abby? Why this baby?"  
  
She was crying despite herself, "I love you, John, I want our baby, no matter if there's something wrong with it or not."  
  
"Then why waste all that time? Thinking about what was right? Or just wondering who you should pin it on, who would call you first, me or Luca?"  
  
He stopped, he'd gone to far. He couldn't believe those words had just come out of his mouth. He had effectively taken Abby from Luca, how could he have accused her-  
  
"Get out." She whispered, turning her back on him.  
  
"Abby, I'm sorry, I don't think that, I was just hurt that you felt you couldn't talk to me. And now I've illustrated why, I'm an idiot, please-"  
  
"Get out, John." She said again, she walked out of the kitchen in her bedroom never glancing behind her, she heard the front door gently click closed and watched him shuffle down to the street to hail a cab. She lay down as she heard the him slam the cab door shut, and that was when the pain hit her. Searing pain in the bass of her stomach, "no, no." She whispered to herself. She managed to pull herself to the corner of the bed, as she did she felt something warm hit her thighs, she was bleeding. She pulled herself upright to look out onto the street, perhaps he was still there, waiting for her to calm down.  
  
The road was empty. She looked down, blood was beginning to pool at her feet, this wasn't right she was bleeding too much even for a miscarriage. Feeling herself begin to panic she knew she had to get to the phone, call john, or someone. As she made her way back into the living room her vision started the black out from the edges. The world was collapsing in on its self, soon it would be gone, she could see her phone, she had it in her hand, she dialled the first number that came into her head. Blackness overtook her.  
  
Having arrived home and paced around for approximately half an hour Carter decided he couldn't leave things how they were. Normally he would leave her to stew or calm down but having acted so monumentally stupidly he HAD to do something. He got in his car and went back to her apartment.  
  
Arriving there he took a breath and steeled himself for her onslaught, he'd given her a good half an hour to find some really good insults for him. He was not prepared for what greeted him.  
  
As he reached her door he could see it was not latched, hairs on the back of his neck stood up, god, was someone inside? Had he left it open? Gingerly he pushed it, his eyes took a moment to adjust to the reality of what he was seeing, and what it meant.  
  
First he noticed the phone, was off the hook, on the floor, he could hear the drone of the dial tone from the receiver. There was a large pool of blood of the floor next to its table, foot prints lead out of it to the door he had just come through, and the wheel marks from a stretcher. Drops of blood marked her path from the bedroom which he followed backwards, again it pooled by the window where she had stood, the bedside table had bee knocked over, the trail started, or ended, on the bedclothes.  
  
His cell phone rang, startling him, "Carter." He snapped into it.  
  
"John?" A quavering voice came at the other end.  
  
In his current state it took him several seconds to place it, "Maggie?" He said, a question more than a statement.  
  
"John? Abby called me, I think, she'd passed out, I didn't know what to do, I called 911 to her apartment, they said she was bleeding, what's going on? Is she OK? Did someone hurt her?"  
  
Yes, I did. He silently replied, outloud, "I don't know, I'm on my way to the hospital."  
  
He could see her through the glass window of the cubicle. He'd guessed she'd by-pass the ER and go straight to OB, he was right. She was laid flat on a gurney, at least two IV's in, nasal cannulae delivered oxygen to her nostrils. She was staring into the middle distance I his direction, but seemed not to have seen him.  
  
She looks so small. He thought to himself. Through one IV He could see she was receiving a blood transfusion, the other looked like normal saline. She was hooked to an ECG and a sats monitor, a fetal monitor lay disregarded in the corner. His heart dropped. Had there been a heart beat when she arrived? Had she had to sit there, bleeding, knowing her body was losing a live baby?  
  
Suddenly he was faced with Dr Coburn, "Carter," she said, "I don't think now is the time for colleagues visiting."  
  
He cleared his throat, "I'm the baby's father. Is Abby OK?"  
  
"Oh, well, she lost a lot of blood, but we seem to have that under control. She gave us a scare, but we didn't need to make any intervention to stop the bleeding. She'll need to stay in for a while, take it easy. We'll be moving her to the ward soon, you can sit with her if you like, please excuse me."  
  
He watched her for a moment longer through the glass. How would she feel seeing him now? Her actions probably told him, alone and bleeding, afraid she had called her mother. Maggie who had never been there for her and in fact lived in Boston. The mother she once had detained by security denying she had even met, yet still she would rather ask help of her than him. He had blown it, completely. He'd accused her of being pregnant with another man's child, now she'd lost what he had no doubt was their baby and it served him right. But not her. She didn't deserve this, and it was all his fault. The best thing he could do for her would be to leave her alone. However much he wanted to go in there and beg for forgiveness and offer whatever solace he could he knew she would not accept it, so he left her there, alone.  
  
Abby stared at the wall in front of her with a million thought running through her head. Carter didn't really think that, did he? She knew it was just tired and frightened talk from him, but it was the kind she was used to hearing from herself. Normally it was her who exaggerated the darker elements of their relationship and their lives in general.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by Dr Coburn re-entering.  
  
"How you doing, mom?" She said, closing the door.  
  
Abby raised an eyebrow at her, "Considering why I'm here that's a little premature isn't it Janice?"  
  
She perched on the edge of the bed, "I know you've had a scare, but there's no reason you can't carry this baby to term. The placenta is low, which puts you at risk for further bleeding, but it may well move up before the baby's born. I'm going to have to put you on bed rest for a while, but I don't see why you both won't be fine."  
  
Abby looked at her hands, "When I was younger I had a termination-"  
  
"That has nothing to do with this Abby. These things just happen. If I have to put you in restraints for the next six months to ensure this baby arrives healthy and happy I will, you just need to take care." She hesitated, "I don't think you should be going back to work in the ER-"  
  
"I have to, I don't think the father is going to be around too much, he's convinced it isn't his."  
  
"Really?" She tilted her head to one side, "Carter? I just spoke to him, he seemed pretty sure he's the father to me. Anyway, I'll arrange for you to come work on OB again, where I can keep an eye on you. Do you have someone to stay with you when you get home? I don't want you to be on your own, just in case Abby?"  
  
Her expression lightened and she placed a hand gingerly over her abdomen, "I won't be, I'll be taking my baby home with me."  
  
To be continued... 


End file.
